Sweet, Sweet Charity
by arutan
Summary: Tsuna wasn't upset that the grandfather he never knew had died. Especially not after he learned the man left the near worthless Vongola Opera House to him with the dying wish that Tsuna restore it to its former glory. If that wasn't enough, it's still inhabited by eight low budget actors who show no respect for him and refuse to acknowledge he owns the house. Thanks, Gramps.
1. The Vongola Opera House

Warnings: OOC Tsuna. Slight Shounen-Ai. Swearing, Timoteo-bashing, Iemitsu-bashing. Half-Dame Tsuna, stereotypical Italians, mentions of culture-shock. Violence when Mukuro and Hibari show up. Character whump. Probably Tsuna.

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_Chapter One:_

The Vongola Opera House

* * *

_No._

_No, no, no, no._

"You know, you're speaking out loud."

_This can't be possible.. It can't. _

"Do you have a filter for your mind to your mouth, Dame-Tsuna?"

_I'm not even here. It's not possible. It's just a dream.. That's right, it's a dream. I'm at home, in bed, sleeping, and soon I'll wake up. This is just a dream, a dream- no, a nightmare. The scary lawyer isn't with me. I'm not here. No, no.._

"Dame-Tsuna.. Do you want me to smack you awake?"

Slowly, the brunette who had previously buried his face in his arms over the cafe table, slowly moved his head upwards. No, it was not a nightmare, as he wished it was. There was no waking up from this awful reality.. His amber eyes took in the image before him, and he shuddered.

A cafe setting, typical sweet French decor with roses lining every table, every window, every painting in the room, stood out first. That wasn't the problem. It was the choking odor of flowers and paint combined into a sickeningly sweet lead scent that overpowered all of the brunette's senses. Tsuna covered his nose as he looked down at the table, eyes trained on the cappuccino and half-eaten donut in front of him, purposefully avoiding looking at the man in front of him.

"Running from reality won't make things better," the lawyer's suave voice came in an annoyed drawl. Tsuna gulped as a hand reached forward, and a thumb pulled his chin up until he was looking into the pitch black eyes of the man sitting in front of him. Dark hair slicked back with gel hidden by an orange-banded fedora, handsomely sculpted angular features with fair skin, and a lean yet muscled build covered up by a million-yen suit formed the image of Japan's number one Wills & Probate Lawyer, Reborn De La Sole- _literally, Reborn of the Sun. _The man's expensive and high-class aura drew eyes from all corners of the cafe, both women and men dreamily looking over to catch a glimpse of the Italian. It seemed everyone wanted to swap places with Tsunayoshi Sawada, who sat in front of _his_ lawyer, looking absolutely miserable.

Yes- this man, Reborn- was Tsuna's lawyer. More specifically, he was Timoteo Sawada's lawyer, coming to speak to Tsuna on behalf of his dead grandfather regarding his will.

"I really thought you grew out of your Dame-Tsuna stage, but I guess not. You're still running away like a coward," Reborn sighed, retracting his hand from the brunette's face. Tsuna ignored the man's taunting, refusing to speak up, and put his head down once again. He heard Reborn tut, but didn't bother looking up.

God- how was this possible?

Sawada Tsunayoshi had never been particularly close to his grandfather, Timoteo Sawada, who had lived in Italy all his life. His mother, who was a hard working single mother, and his father, who worked in Italy for some big Sicilian company and seldom ever came home, never mentioned his grandfather on his dad's side. The only time they had ever said anything of a grandfather was when Nana Sawada had found a brown box sitting on the front door of their tiny little house and opened it up, gleefully bringing her son down to show him a care package from Italy. It was from his father, apparently- though he really doubted it, considering Iemitsu Sawada was not the most thoughtful man, seeing as when he did come home every two years, he spent all his time getting drunk and sleeping on the couch.

Inside the care package had been an assortment of unsent letters, stamped and all, a couple of bags of Italian chocolates, and an envelope stuffed to the brim full of photographs. Tsuna had sat at the table with his mother, who had opened up the letters and begun to read them. He ignored the letters and photos for the chocolates, popping a few in his mouth at a time, while wary not to get any of the sweets on the bandages he had wrapped around the cuts and bruises he got from Mochida-senpai's last visit to him when he was walking home from school. Nana had occasionally squealed while looking over the pictures and letters, and when she was done, pushed everything over towards him.

Tsuna still remembered his mother smiling widely while gleefully exclaiming, "_Look, Tsu-kun! Pictures of your cousins and uncles and aunts in Italy! They sent us some letters, too! How thoughtful!"_

The letters had been rather awkward. He had, if he remembered correctly, four uncles, two aunts, and five cousins- maybe six, if Enrico's wife had given birth already. The ones that did write were obviously forced to, their words awkwardly spaced, their questions of, '_how's school?' _and, _'what hobbies do you have?'_, so tense and forced that Tsuna could practically taste the hesitation along with the chocolate aftertaste on his tongue. Nana had forced him to write back after he finished looking over all of the pictures of angry looking Italian men eating pasta and fighting and getting drunk and other savory things. He had awkwardly answered each question while dying inside.

_How's school?_

_Oh, it's good. I'm just failing every single class I'm in, getting beat up every day by guys two times my size, being humiliated in class by all my teachers and every adult that works in the school, and nearly breaking every bone in my body during Flag-Football in P.E. The usual._

Thankfully, Tsuna had received no more care packages or letters after that.

However, he instead opened the door up in the first morning of the next month not to find another box of Italian keepsakes, but an Italian man wearing a fedora and a suit, with curly sideburns and deep, dark black eyes. _"Ciaossu," _he had said, a deep smirk playing out on his lips, as he bowed his head. Tsuna had promptly slammed the door shut and went up back to his room.

The man had broken down the door, introduced himself as Reborn De La Sole- a lawyer from Sicily- and settled down in Tsuna's bed, making him sleep on the couch downstairs. He explained that he was a 'gift' from Timoteo Sawada in Italy, sent to make Tsuna's life better by helping him improve himself.

'Helping Tsuna to improve himself' meant putting a gun to the brunette's head while making him run four miles in under thirty minutes at the school track, giving him boxing lessons for five hours nonstop, making him recite the history of Japan's Meiji Era while dangling him off of the community bridge over the Namimori River by a fishing pole, and seducing all of the women _and men _at Namimori High into beating down on Tsuna harder until he was forced to finally fight his bullies back. Needless to say, the one year Reborn had spent with Tsuna had been absolute hell. Though after he had left, everyone had stopped calling him Dame-Tsuna, seeing as he grew out of that stage, he still resented Timoteo for sending the spawn of Satan to live with him, and could not gather up any love for his Italian family in his heart.

The whole situation at hand was not helping.

Tsuna was twenty three now, and a month ago, when he had received a call from Reborn whom he had not heard from since he was sixteen, he had not been surprised that bad news accompanied the greatest lawyer in the world. His ex-tutor had informed him that Timoteo Sawada had died, and his funeral would be in a week, in Sicily. Of course, his mother had called him and forced him to take time off of work and contact his landlord, insisting they go. So they did- and for four days, Tsuna put up with sobbing relatives, scathing looks from relatives, relatives in general, and Reborn. Tsuna and his mother stayed in the mansion Timoteo owned- apparently his family was _stinking rich and never bothered to help out his financially struggling mother- _furthering his disdain for his Italian family. It was an awkward and tense funeral, and seeing his father whom he had not spoken to since he was fourteen didn't help, either. When he got back home, he was relieved to be back in Japan, and to be done with Italy in general.

That was until he had received _another _phone call from Reborn, telling him they would be meeting up at '_Tres Bien Cafe,' _some high class French restaurant. He had gone in wary, and for good reasons. Then, the Probate & Wills lawyer had read off Timoteo's will to him, talking rapidly in Italian, purposefully to confuse Tsuna, who was barely fluent. When he had worked up the nerve to ask what Reborn was even talking about, the lawyer sharply glared.

"Timoteo Sawada left the Vongola Opera House to you, Dame-Tsuna," he said, bringing back the brunette's high school nickname. "It's an opera house passed down from the very first ancestor of the Sawada line, nicknamed Vongola Primo, or Ieyasu Giotto Sawada, and over the many years, has accumulated a reputation of having the finest actors and singers, with the highest class audiences and shows, even owning their own playwrights. Music critics have nothing but showers of praise for the Vongola Operahouse. It was worth billions during its prime time," Reborn explained.

Timoteo couldn't have left him a hundred dollar bill and the recipe to the secret family-made shrimp scampi. "How much is it worth now?"

"Maybe six hundred thousand USD on a good day," Reborn had replied calmly, sipping at his piping cup of espresso. He picked up the will, a flicker of sadistic amusement flashing through his abyss-like eyes. "Timoteo's dying wish, as indicated in his will, was that, quote- '_my exceptionally talented and determined grandson, Sawada Tsunayoshi, take the Vongola Opera House and restore it to its former glory.' _How touching."

Tsuna felt something in his brain pop. Perhaps a blood vessel. The brunette dug his fingers into his Styrofoam cup of cappuccino. "So the filthy rich grandfather I've never even met, who's never convinced his bastard of a son to go home and stay with his family, or bothered to help out my mother when she was working two jobs other than send a tutor who beat me near to death while using up all of our resources suddenly asks that I take his crappy old opera house and use all of my hard earned savings to restore it when I have no interest in music whatsoever?"

"Pretty much," Reborn had replied. "Dame-Tsuna, don't think you can reject the Opera House, either. It would be a very big insult to the Italian side of your family. Your mother would be very disappointed in you, and so would your father."

"I don't care about what Iemitsu thinks," Tsuna replied dryly. He was surprised he had the gall to talk back to Reborn, considering he still occasionally had nightmares about his ex-tutor, but through his anger, he had no filter whatsoever.

"Well, it's going to sit with you, unless you sell the property," Reborn said, his tone turning back to professional. "And if you can't find anyone willing to buy that dump, then you have to keep paying property taxes for the rest of your life. Or, you could restore the Opera House, and then sell it and get off your chest. You know.. Your choice."

Tsuna had let out a groan, before slamming his head into his arms.

And that was where the story caught up to the present.

"I don't care if I'm Dame-Tsuna for life," the brunette groaned into the table. He still was kind of Dame, actually. He worked at a low-income supermarket, had a one-room apartment that was smaller than the den of this very restaurant, still tripped over his shoelaces, had a habit of stuttering around strangers, and couldn't do advanced math at all. But he had also learned to protect himself, picked up hobbies in writing and boxing, and learned to cook. So he had labelled himself Half-Dame-Tsuna. That was better. "Can't you just ask someone else in the family to take it?"

"Can't," Reborn replied simply, not at all fazed by Tsuna's whining. "Timoteo specified directly that the Opera House would be left to you, despite how much some of the others may want it."

"Others want that dump?" Tsuna asked, peeking out a little.

"Xanxus, for some reason, believes it his birthright to own the Opera House. He wasn't very impressed that Timoteo left it to you. Enrico instead inherited the mansion but of course, is obsessed with Vongola treasures. Massimo has a love of Italian theater, and Federico is just greedy," Reborn said, a glint in his sharp dark eyes. "Shouldn't you be grateful that your dear grandfather was so thoughtful and generous before he died?"

Tsuna made a noise that sounded like a half-groan, half-whimper.

Reborn ignored his former student, opting instead to open up his briefcase. "Here are some pictures of the Vongola Opera House now," he said, taking out a manilla folder. When he opened it, a collection of carefully clipped photographs was revealed. Tsuna slowly got up and took the stack of pictures. Immediately, he winced.

The Opera House was definitely something back four hundred years ago. A picture of it before, in black and white, was pasted on the back of the present photo. It had been truly grand, a building that looked so high class that Tsuna couldn't imagine anyone in his family possibly owning it. True, his Italian family was rich as hell- but when the brunette thought of family, only his mother came to mind. Anyway- the Vongola Opera House was huge in the picture, possibly five stories tall, and was the entire first-class shebang. There was a large spiral staircase in the front of the house, leading up to the five floors with a bar in the basement, and the walls were possibly gold or red velvet, decorated with all of the nine owners of the house in large, grand portraits- from 'Primo Vongola' to Timoteo Sawada himself. The pictures of the inside of the house were just as impressive, if not more, with huge stages and vast curtains and balcony seats. A glass chandelier hung from every stage room on each floor. Everything was beautiful and highly detailed, from the ornaments on the walls, to the stained glass windows at the top of the rooms. There was even a separate corridor that lead to dressing rooms, as well as bedrooms for the actors, along with ones for directors.

Then- there were the pictures of the present Vongola Opera House.

Time had not been well with the House, Tsuna knew immediately, as a sigh escaped his lips. The walls were peeling, the ornate paint chipped all over, revealing white plaster and even some pipes in certain areas of the den. The floors were old and dirtied, red velvet rug peeling away in the corners of the room. The ceiling lights were dank and the marble busts in the lobby chipped, and the stage of the second floor had holes in it, patched up haphazardly with wooden planks and duct tape. The chandeliers were broken and no longer functioning, and the bar in the basement was completely trashed. The curtains were blackened and in all rooms of the Opera House, seats were missing and broken. The only thing that remained respectfully untouched were the portraits of the owners, covered up in plastic tarps to avoid damage.

Tsuna felt a migraine coming on.

"You're lucky you got it now," Reborn said, passing Tsuna stacks of paperwork, probably for licenses and safety measures. "There's water damage, of course, in the roof, and the gazebo is unstable and breaking. It's going to need serious construction- but at least no one has died in it, yet. Anyway, you're going to need a business, alcohol, and property license, and you need to convince the playwrights and mechanics to work off of money you've gotten from the bank.. Your credibility scores are okay, I suppose. You need a manager and several investors, and you're also going to need an audience to see whatever plays you can put on, if you can manage to get the stage up."

"How does that make me lucky I got it now?" Tsuna spluttered in exasperation, as Reborn continued to shove paperwork into his already-full hands. All of this was too much to take in at once, and it sounded like Timoteo had basically just shoved his unneeded trash into his grandson's hands. The old man was probably laughing it up in heaven right now. Or hell. Wherever you went for being a filthy rich asshole your whole life.

Reborn only smirked, as he pulled his fedora down a bit to cover his eyes, leaning back in his chair. "Dame-Tsuna, you'll find out later. Your flight to Italy leaves at seven tomorrow. Meet me here at six," was all he said, before closing his briefcase and.. falling asleep?

Tsuna couldn't help but snort, despite how defeated he was feeling. It was like Reborn, perfectly like him, in fact- to fall asleep right in the middle of his job, or while he was speaking to someone. The brunette put down the paperwork he was given and stacked it, before reaching into his bag and grabbing a familiar bottle of pills. Without even needing water, he swallowed two tablets of Advil dry, and took a sip of his cappuccino to wash it down.

So, he was moving to Italy for the time being, with the notice being of less than half a day. He had less than a day to pack all of his things, move the rest of it to his mother's house, say goodbye to her, quit his job, inform his landlord, get a passport, and collect his last paychecks. Tsuna decided that Reborn knew about the will much longer than two weeks and had done this to prove some point, to test him in that sick way Reborn used to.

_Wow, _Tsuna bitterly thought, _how nostalgic._

Ignoring the throbbing near his temples, the brunette gulped the rest of his cappuccino down, slapped down some yen for the drink, and put on his coat before shakily exiting Tres Bien. He ignored the cold air that whipped at his cheeks, making his way to his small apartment complex a few blocks away. He had no time to spare.

Back in the cafe, Reborn only smirked, his eyes still closed, and pulled his fedora down more.

His little Dame-Tsuna was just as Dame as before. Now, it was just a question over whether or not Timoteo's intuitions about Tsuna were right- if he did indeed have what it took to restore the Opera House to its former glory.

Opening one eye and watching Tsuna just in time for the brunette to trip over a crack in the sidewalk, he snorted.

_Oh yes, _Reborn thought, going back to his nap, _most definitely. This will be a fun project._

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Review. It gives me power.


	2. Viva Italia!

Warnings: OOC Tsuna. Slight Shounen-Ai. Swearing, Timoteo-bashing, Iemitsu-bashing. Half-Dame Tsuna, stereotypical Italians, mentions of culture-shock. Violence when Mukuro and Hibari show up. Character whump. Probably Tsuna.

Pairings will be: All27 (with prominent R27, 5027, and 4827). D27 will likely occur with the others.

About my update schedule, I'll try to keep it to about a 1-2 week gap between updates. Thanks for the reviews.

* Edit: Mentioned Fuuta twice. Thanks to Ghostdragon101 for pointing that out.

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_Chapter Two:_

Viva Italia!

* * *

It was approximately seven thirty when the flight from Tokyo, Japan, left to Milan, Italy.

It was midnight when the plane dropped down into Milan, Italian time.

This meant that one Tsunayoshi Sawada had spent twelve hours sitting in the same seat with the same Italian, Spartan ex-tutor of his breathing down his neck during one hell of a flight. Twelve hours spent trying to sleep, twelve hours spent being tortured by a kid in their 'terrible two' stage kicking his chair with fevered gusto, twelve hours spent staring out the window in a dead gaze, twelve hours spent trying to gather up feelings in his totally numb legs. By the time the plane had touched down on Milan soil, Tsuna was feeling rather conflicted over whether or not he should be kissing the ground in joy, or crying while locking himself in the compact-bathroom, brooding over the fact that he was in Italy once again.

His said Spartan ex-tutor gave him no chance to do any of those.

Reborn had grabbed him by the collar of his very lame sweater vest as soon as they had permitted standing up on the plane, pulled him off the boarding ramp with his carry-on items in tow, and practically dragged him all the way to baggage check, which meant getting jostled by other passengers, going down two flights of stairs and into one elevator, and nearly falling off the second floor of the Milan Italian Airport. By the time Reborn had dropped Tsuna on the ground near the luggage conveyor belt, the brunette had a healthy variety of bruises on his arms, legs, and face.

_Just like high school, _Tsuna thought with a sigh.

"Here's your suitcase, Dame-Tsuna," Reborn said, rolling a dull orange piece of luggage towards the smaller male. The brunette sighed as he got up, cracked his lower back, and took the rolling suitcase by the handle. "I called one of my associates, who'll be picking us up."

Tsuna blanched. "Fine," he replied, taking out his cell phone and turning it back on. "I'm going to call my mom."

"Send her my greetings," was all Reborn replied with, before heading off to sit down at some in-port coffee shop to get some espresso. Tsuna walked over near the bathrooms and dialed one on speed dial. The tone rung a few times before a beep was heard, and the line was picked up.

_"Tsu-kun?"_ A familiar, sweet voice asked.

"Hey, mom," Tsuna replied, rubbing his eyes. The light was harsh, considering it was nearly pitch black outside. "Reborn and I just landed in Milan. We got our suitcases and everything just now."

_"Oh, that's great,"_ Nana Sawada replied. Tsuna could practically hear the smile in her voice. _"It must be late in Italy! It's only seven o'clock here. How was your flight?"_

"More or less, unpleasant. What are you doing?"

_"Watching TV. Your cousin Natsu visited from Hokkaido, so we just ate some dessert. He was excited to see you, but he says that when you've finished the Opera House and fixed it up, to invite him for some shows! How sweet!"_

Tsuna thought of his favorite cousin, Natsu, who was from his mother's side. He was a sweet boy- probably maybe thirteen or fourteen now. "Oh, uh, sure. I'll fix it up as soon as possible and invite you guys," he said awkwardly. "But it might take a while for that to happen. Did you see the pictures Reborn sent of the theater?"

_"Yes, but there's nothing some good hard work can't fix," _Nana said, ever the optimist. _"I'm just glad you're leaving Japan, Tsu-kun.. Oh, not in that way! I meant I'm happy you're exploring somewhere else in the world, other than little old Namimori. Italy must be so exciting, and for you to inherit the family Opera House is wonderful!"_

_If only you knew, Mama, _Tsuna thought, narrowing his eyes as he spotted Reborn at the mini cafe, sipping his espresso with a smirk. "Yes, wonderful," he echoed.

_"I wonder if you'll make some Italian friends. Be sure to bring them back home for a meal and visit often!"_

Tsuna blinked. "Wait, mom," he interjected. "After I fix the Opera House, I'm selling it and moving back to Japan-"

_"Nonsense! You can't sell a family treasure like the Opera House! Besides, Tsu-kun, you already quit your job and sold your apartment. I'm afraid I couldn't forgive you if you sold the opera house. And your family in Italy would be upset."_

Tsuna felt his eye twitch. _I couldn't give a damn about my family in Italy, _he thought bitterly, gripping his phone just a bit tighter. "I'll decide when we get there," he conceded. Once his mother got riled up, it was hard to stop her.

_"All right," _Nana replied. _"Be safe, Tsu-kun. I'm expecting very good things from you, all right? I don't want to get a phone call saying you're coming home early. Once you've made a commitment, you have to stick with it!"_

"Sure, sure," Tsuna replied, sighing internally. He looked over to Reborn, who was almost done with his espresso, the caffeine monster he was. "Look, Mom. I'll call you tomorrow. Reborn is almost done with his coffee."

_"All right, I look forward to it. Bye, Tsu-kun! Mama loves you!"_

Tsuna let a fond smile slip across his lips. "Bye, Mama. Love you too."

A little click sounded, and Tsuna closed his phone, slipping it into his back pocket. Reborn stood up and threw away his empty cup, gesturing for the brunette to follow him. The two walked out of the airport doors, security waving them goodbye. The Italian lawyer nodded over to where an expensive looking red sports car was parked on the side of the curb, a large tuft of blonde hair sticking out in the front seat.

"There's our ride," Reborn said. His tone almost seemed scathing.

Tsuna shivered, following his ex tutor over to the car. The Italian peered over the side of the passenger seat and promptly backhanded the man who was bending over, trying to pick something up that had fallen on the ground. The blonde man shot up in surprise and nearly hit his head on the steering wheel, narrowly avoiding it. His shockingly bright blue eyes glared at the dark haired lawyer.

"Reborn, kora! You trying to pick a fight so late at night? That'll get you killed!"

Tsuna almost corrected the man. Reborn was not so easy to kill off.

"Shut up, Colonello," Reborn said, adjusting his orange tie to its usual perfect place under his collar. "Help us get our luggage into the trunk. It's too much work for me to try and work with your cheap knockoff of a Porsche. Does the trunk even open on this piece of crap?"

The blonde growled, though he got up from the car, slamming the door. "Fuck off, kora. This one's real."

_This one? _Tsuna wondered, glumly watching as the blonde reached over, and snatched his luggage. With his military-muscles, the Italian dumped all of the suitcases into his rather small, compact trunk, and then marched back to the front of his sports car. Reborn followed, taking the passenger seat.

"Well, Dame-Tsuna? What are you waiting for?" Reborn asked, turning around to see the brunette still standing outside of the car, "get in the back."

Tsuna sighed and followed Reborn's instructions. He opened up the backseat and climbed in, trying to get comfortable on the stiff leather. His rear was already beginning to go numb again.

"So, you're the infamous Dame-Tsuna?" Colonello asked, as he began to drive out of the entrance of the airport. Streetlights illuminated the pitch black night, making it possible to see through the darkness. "When Reborn got home from Italy, he kept you a total secret. It feels like I'm unmasking Reborn by meeting you, kora! What kind of secrets have you got on this ass from living with him for a year?"

The Italian lawyer showed no visible reaction to the blonde's words. Tsuna deflated. So much for a quiet ride.

"Uh, I'm not too important to Reborn's lifestyle to know much," he admitted. In fact, he was rather comfortable being as far away from, and knowing as little about Reborn as possible. "I don't remember much, either.." The only thing he clearly remembered was the cruel and unusual punishment.. And Reborn's little housing habits. "He slept a lot, and always roomed in my bedroom. He slept there, too. Sometimes while standing." Man, had that been weird.

"Ha! That sounds like something a kid would do, kora!"

"Don't forget, idiota," Reborn said, pulling his fedora down, "that you fall asleep everywhere, too."

And with that, Reborn fell asleep.

Colonello laughed heartily, mocking the lawyer who had dozed off. Reborn didn't even stir through the blonde's booming voice. "That's great, kora! Embarrassing stuff on the untouchable Reborn!"

Tsuna looked out the window, trying to see through the blackness. There wasn't much.

"What did you do before you signed up for this shitty project, kid?"

Tsuna flinched at Colonello's language a bit- before he sighed silently. "I worked at a convenience store," he admitted. The job wasn't that bad. It was just mostly menial labor. "I'm not the most successful, I know."

"Well, we all start somewhere, kora," Colonello replied.

"You are?" Tsuna asked, politely.

"I'm employed as the Second in Chair Vice President for CEDEF," the blonde replied. "It's the company that your Pops is president of. He's a good boss. That's where I met Reborn, when I was training under the current vice president."

Tsuna ignored the part about his father. A good boss meant nothing to the faceless stranger who had never visited home. "Ah, I see. You're pretty young to be holding such a high job, though."

"I had a good mentor with connections," the blonde replied. Then, he patted his car fondly, as if it were a person. "She's the one who managed to hook me up with this baby, kora. The last I bought was a knockoff from my friend, who's kind of obsessed with money. He can be an asshole."

Most people Tsuna knew were assholes. He was used to it.

"When you fix up the Opera House, you should write me or something," Colonello continued, not bothering to wait for a response. "I'll bring over the people at CEDEF. They're linked in with the Vongola family, and everything, so they'd be pretty stoked to see your operas and stuff, kora. I'll also introduce you to my friends. They've all got a lot of connections, too," he explained. "Even if they're assholes."

Tsuna nodded, not exactly listening to anything Colonello was saying.

What? Call him rude- but he had been on a plane for twelve hours. He had a right to space out.

As the blonde CEDEF worker continued to talk about his co-workers, Tsuna looked out onto the streets of Milan. It had only been weeks since he was here last for Timoteo's funeral, but it still seemed foreign and new. There was large, old-fashioned buildings that resembled castles all along the tourist based spots of the city, and lights above them glowed bright yellow and orange. It was a beautiful sight, Tsuna decided. But it wasn't something he wanted to get used to.

No matter what Nana or Colonello or Reborn said, he was going to fix the Opera House, sell it, and go back to Japan. Italy was not a place he wanted to stay in, and all of this was just a burden he needed to clear before he could move on.

_This all sounds like some awful video game,_ Tsuna thought to himself, in despair. _Clear the newest level of shit that Reborn throws at you, and advance to the next level of shit he's getting ready to throw._

"Anyway," Colonello's voice snapped Tsuna out of his rather bitter thoughts, "we'll drop you off at the Opera House and meet visit you tomorrow or something."

"Huh?" Tsuna asked, eyes widened. "Isn't Reborn going to stay at the House with me?"

"It's your responsibility, Dame-Tsuna," the Italian said, obviously not as asleep as the two thought. Reborn pushed his fedora back up, and the bluenette bristled. "_You're _the one who inherited the Vongola Opera House, so you'll fix it, and work it out. I'm not your babysitter anymore."

Tsuna felt the sides of his mouths pull deeply into a frown, as he spluttered in exasperation. "But I have no knowledge whatsoever about business! You're the one who showed the will and everything to me! You came to Italy with me!"

"It was an obligation from Timoteo, as everything else was," Reborn replied coolly. "I was instructed to pass the Opera House down to you, and make sure you came to Italy to follow through your grandfather's wishes. Everything was done out of the sake of professionalism."

"Bullshit," Tsuna mumbled, feeling his eyes beginning to tear from frustration. That goddamn Reborn.

"I heard that, Dame-Tsuna," the dark haired man said, as calm as ever.

"Ugh," Tsuna snapped, and turned over in the passenger seat to rest his head against the window.

"Give the brat a break, kora," Colonello's voice came, surprisingly. "It's a big shock, and you didn't tell him much before you shipped him off. Don't be so harsh."

"He's been through worse," Reborn's dismissive tone came.

Anger burst through Tsuna, as he tried to keep his thoughts from spilling out of his mouth. He was pissed at Reborn- for butting back into his life- for Timoteo, for passing some stupid responsibility on to him when he had never done anything for Nana or Tsuna- and even at Colonello, who was driving him towards his doom. God, he wanted to go home.

"We're ten or fifteen minutes away from the Opera House," Colonello said, after a little while.

Tsuna didn't respond. He kept his eyes on the ground.

"Enter the House from the left wing. The key I gave you on the airplane will let you straight into the rooming area, instead of you having to go in from the front," Reborn instructed. The Porsche whizzed down the street, as the buildings around them slowly became dirtier, smaller, and less impressive. Entering a different neighborhood now, Tsuna supposed. "Your room will be the first unoccupied. A director's sign is on the door right now."

"Got it," he quietly said.

The rest of the drive was suspended into silence, as the car slowed down and moved down the street. Through the lights, Tsuna could see a large, looming building coming closer and closer- white marble speckled with orange shade, crumbling fixtures and peeling paint all around the sides. It was the Vongola Opera House, Tsuna's biggest nightmare come true.

Slowly, Colonello put the brakes down, and stopped the car.

"We're here, kora. You need help with your stuff?"

"No," Tsuna said, stubbornly, as he tried not to quake. He opened the door shakily, walked out- surprised his legs weren't buckling- and moved to the trunk. As Colonello unlocked it, Tsuna kept his eyes on the Opera House, putting his suitcase down on the ground. Everything felt so suddenly real. The Opera House looked much worse in person.

The brunette rolled his suitcase out to the front of the Porsche, and took a deep breath. He fingered the key Reborn had given him, which was deep in his lint-filled pocket.

"Good luck, Dame-Tsuna," Reborn said.

Tsuna didn't reply. His ex-tutor would kill him for ignoring him, but he didn't care.

He moved his way to the side, barely able to see where he was going from the lights alone. Fumbling a bit and groping at the side of the building, Tsuna's hand brushed the doorhandle that would take him up to the second floor of the House. He opened it, and began pulling his luggage up the stairs, with much difficulty. Halfway through he was already breathing heavily, and by the time he had gone all the way up the stairs, he had to lean against the wall and wait to catch his breath.

_Well, I guess I'm out of shape, _Tsuna mused to himself.

The brunette used the key to open the door to the rooming area of the House, when he had managed to steady his breathing. The lights were all off in the halls, and carefully as to not trip over anything- Tsuna moved his suitcase to the first door on the left, where he could barely make out a large 'D' on the side of the wall.

_D for director, I guess._

Tsuna opened the door, seeing it was still dark, and turned the light on.

It was better than he expected, to be honest. For such a dilapidated building, the room wasn't disgusting. It was rather small, not overly luxurious, and reminded him of the monotonous, copy-cat rooms at his old apartment. It had one window over the bed, which was big enough for one person, and had plain beige sheets tucked over the clean-enough white mattress. There was a nightstand, a small door which he assumed lead to a bathroom, and a medium sized dresser for clothes. There were a few personal touches to the room, probably from the last person to stay in the Theater- a painting of a grassy field by the nightstand, a red lava lamp, and a book of music slyly, half-slid under the dresser, as if to hide it.

Putting his suitcase in the corner, Tsuna went to pick up the book.

_Chopin and Beethoven Classics: Series XI_

The brunette flipped through the pages of the book, seeing random, note-filled pages of songs, most of them scribbled on with angry red pen. It looked rather important, as if whoever owned the book was trying to write whatever they could in it. Tsuna wondered why it was left so haphazardly by the last occupant. Frowning- Tsuna saw another set of writing, in dark purple pen, comments of, "_Stupid, stupid! This is a stupid diary!"_

Diary? Tsuna looked over the red scribbles, and noted with a raised eyebrow- that the writing was indeed, dated entries of someone's life. Who wrote a diary in a piano book?

Sighing, the brunette put the book at the top of the dresser, and decided he would try to clean up tomorrow. It was already too late at night. Tsuna examined his rumpled clothes, and decided it was also too much work to change clothes. Lazily, Tsuna trudged over to the bed, flung himself onto it- and at the last minute, deciding it was also too much work to get under the sheets, closed his eyes and immediately felt his fatigue overtake him.

Tsuna's sleep was completely dreamless.

* * *

When Tsuna awoke, it was evening.

His phone that was in his pocket had vibrated, jolting the brunette out of his sleep. Tsuna frowned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, as he fumbled through his pants for his phone. With clumsy fingers, he flung open the flip cell, and pressed it to his ear, trying to find his voice through his raspy throat.

_"Tsuna-kun?"_ A chipper, almost nasally high-pitched voice came from the other line.

".. Haru?" Tsuna almost croaked. It was Haru- the girl he worked with at the convenience store for the past year with. She was always so friendly- albeit pushy, and always talked to Tsuna, invited him out with her to do things on their breaks, and baked little pastries and cakes and sent them home with him. She was a nice girl, but Tsuna wasn't too close to her. Why was she calling?

_"Hahi, what a relief, desu! Haru-chan called your home phone at the apartment to ask if you wanted to go shopping with me after our break at the convenience store tomorrow, but they said you didn't live there! So she called the convenience store, and our manager said you quit, desu! Haru-chan was worried, so they gave her your mom's number. She called and Nana said that you moved to Italy! Haru-chan was so sad!"_

_Tsuna_ barely comprehended half of that, as he slid out of bed. Walking over, he grabbed his toiletry bag from his suitcase, opened the door to the bathroom, and put the call on low-volume speakerphone. He tested the water- there was still running water from the sink, apparently. He began washing his face, as Haru continued to prattle on and on.

_"Haru-chan could not believe that Tsuna moved away without telling her, desu! She got your number from Maman, and called you as soon as possible. Obviously since Haru-chan is calling you, and you picked up, it means that Tsuna-kun did not move all the way from Japan to Italy just to get rid of her, desu!"_

Tsuna dried his face, and blanched.

"Uh, actually, Haru," Tsuna started, a bit wary of the harsh panting coming from the other line. The poor girl was still trying to catch her breath. "I am in Italy. My grandfather died and left me one of his.. er.. companies, to me, and I have to manage it from Italy. His lawyer kind of dragged me to Italy last-notice yesterday."

The heavy breathing continued.

"I didn't leave to escape you," Tsuna reassured the young woman, "it was kind of just a business move. But I plan to be back in Japan once I finish working with the company and sell it. I don't know when that will be, though."

_"Haru understands now!"_

"You do?" Tsuna asked, as he pulled out his toothbrush.

_"Yes!" _Haru exclaimed,_ "__Tsuna-kun's evil grandfather left him a mafia syndicate of crooks when he died, desu! His sons were all villainous evildoers, who would only use the mafia for their own selfish needs! Tsuna-kun's grandfather knew the mafia was in the best hands of Tsuna-kun, who would care for the members as if they were his own grandchildren. So he left the mafia to him through lawyer-kun, desu! But Tsuna-kun wanted an innocent, crime-free normal life, so lawyer-kun kidnapped him and dragged him to Italy. Tsuna-kun must be so scared!"_

Tsuna blinked, halfway through the action of getting toothpaste onto his toothbrush. Part of that was Haru's imagination running again, but the other half, about 'lawyer-kun', was painstakingly accurate. "Haru.. It's not a mafia I inherited. It's the Vongola Opera House, and I'm supposed to reconstruct it on behalf of my grandfather's dying wish."

_"Tsuna-kun doesn't need to lie to Haru! Haru-chan knows the truth. She will be over at Italy to rescue you as soon as possible! The mafia will not taint poor, innocent Tsuna-kun!"_

Man, this chick was determined.

"I'm not lying, Haru," Tsuna tried again. "That's really the truth. After I fix the Opera House up, I'm going to sell it and move back to Japan, I promise. You don't have to worry."

_".. Really? Tsuna-kun is not just lying to escape the wrath of lawyer-kun?"_

"Promise," Tsuna echoed. "I'm fine."

_As fine as someone could be while speaking on the phone with a busybody, while standing in the middle of a dilapidated building that could be crumbling under his feet._

_".. All right, Haru-chan concedes," _the girl said, with a sigh. _"But, if Tsuna-kun ever needs help with his Opera House, he has to call Haru! And on opening night of the theater, he has to invite Haru, too!"_

"But I'm selling it before-"

_"Put on a show before you sell it, desu! It will make the Opera House worth more since there are customers and an audience!"_

Tsuna felt a migraine coming on. He stuffed his toothbrush in his mouth and opted for an unintelligible grunt as he began to brush his teeth, staring at himself in the mirror with disappointed eyes.

_"Anyway, Haru-chan has to go now, desu. It's only eight over in Japan, and she needs to get ready for her shift at the convenience store. Bye bye, Tsuna-kun!"_

Tsuna spat quietly into the basin. "Bye," he mumbled, through a mouthful of toothpaste.

The dial tone beeped, and Tsuna rinsed out his mouth before he put his phone into sleep mode, and shoved it back into his pocket. He felt a lot cleaner now, but he was still wearing his clothes from before, and his hair was a mess.

Tsuna combed out the fluffy brown tresses as well as he could, before giving up a minute into it and deciding to go to a restaurant or something and grab lunch. Since it was only eight in Japan, it had to be around three here. He was pretty hungry considering he hadn't eaten in a while. Yes, lunch sounded good.

Tsuna could've cooked, but he doubted there was even a running refrigerator in the living quarters of the Opera House, much less any ingredients he could've used to make anything.

The brunette left the bathroom and went to his suitcase, unzipping just the top so he could grab some clothes without unpacking. Tsuna took a random mess of clothes and put them on, not bothering to check what they were. Dismissive, he ended up with a simple white collared shirt and slacks, which were fine enough to go to a restaurant.

Grabbing his wallet, Tsuna opened up his cell again, just to check his text messages. There was one from Nana from last night, simply a sweet 'good night!' with a little happy-face-emoticon, one from Reborn early this morning, and one from Haru, which had came in before she called. As Tsuna left his room, taking his key with him, he opened up Reborn's, and wasn't surprised at all by what he saw.

_"When you're awake, call me. We need to start talking about getting your licenses and registration before you start construction."_

Nothing at all personal or intimate, just cold business Reborn, who was only obligated to help him the bare minimum because of Timoteo. Said lawyer was also still babying him by trying to guide him through all of this, contradicting himself. Tsuna rolled his eyes, deleted the message, and pocketed his phone.

He was tired of having to bend this way and that for Reborn. If Tsuna was being forced into rebuilding this dump of an Opera House, he'd do it his own way. And that meant, without the lawyer's help, especially since he seemed _so _reluctant to give it, considering he _already did his job as obligated by Timoteo._

Besides, he had practically grown up on his own, with his mother constantly working, and without a father. Tsuna figured he was independent enough to finish this without Reborn's help.

The brunette walked his way down the stairs. Light illuminated the building, so it wasn't as eerie as before- that, and it meant Tsuna wasn't tripping over his feet every five seconds trying to navigate his foot to the steps. Once he got down the two flights of stairs, the brunette opened the door, gazing at the unruly garden off the side of the Opera House. Tsuna sighed, making a mental note to try and get that fixed, along with everything else.

_This place just had to be a total dump, didn't it, _the brunette thought, sighing. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to flatten the fluffy spikes. _Timoteo, you're an ass, _he thought, hoping his grandfather heard him.

Tsuna walked his way to the street in front of the Vongola Opera House. To be honest- it looked a lot worse in the day than it did at night, and even worse than it did when it was right in front of his face. Everything looked broken and dirty, like an abandoned house that would fall to pieces any minute. As Tsuna walked more to the rural, cleaner side of the town, he figured that perhaps the living quarters weren't as safe as Reborn said.

"Maybe he's trying to kill me off quietly," the brunette mused quietly to himself. "After all, he failed all those times when he was tutoring me in high school."

Crossing the streetlight, Tsuna made sure to stick to the safer part of the neighborhood, as he gradually moved into the marketplace side of the town center. Small restaurants and little shops lined the old-fashioned cobblestones, people speaking in loud, cheerful Italian bustling around during the evening hour. The brunette didn't let his eyes wander too much, as he randomly selected a small eatery right by the entrance of the shopping district.

"Ciao!" An outdoors hostess exclaimed with a bright smile, to the brunette. Her dark hair was pinned neatly to the side, her wrinkle-free uniform bending just a bit as she gestured to the entrance. "Welcome to A_ttraverso l_' _Vite!"_

"Table for one," Tsuna said, in Italian. He had only the slightest trace of an accent in his words, making his words sound exotic and crisp. He had practically had Italian beaten into him by Reborn, who insisted he should be fluent.

"Right this way," she said, guiding him into the restaurant.

Tsuna followed her leisurely, looking around. The small restaurant was pleasant- soft orange lighting illuminating a cool, black-and brown themed eatery. The chairs and tables were lax, and the dress was casual-formal. There was a bar in the back of the restaurant, were a few customers hung around, lightly sipping some wines and other drinks. The clanking of spoons and forks rose over a soft piano playing in the background of the restaurant, and the smells of various foods wafted over to the brunette, who groaned internally. God, he was hungry. The only restaurants he had visited in Italy when he and Nana had come for Timoteo's funeral were all high-class, unenjoyable restaurants. He wanted something good, but comfortable, and he was glad he had chosen this place.

"Here is your table," the hostess said, with a bright smile. She handed Tsuna a menu. "Your waiter will be right with you."

_"Grazie," _Tsuna replied, with a nod. She walked off as he opened up the menu, his eyes scanning the various choices of food with vigor. He may not have loved Italy as a country, but the food was amazing. As his waiter approached, Tsuna was caught between the alfredo fettucini and the seafood linguine.

"Water today?" The young man asked, with a smile. Tsuna nodded, and the waiter wrote something down on his notepad, his hair moving with every nudge of his head. Blonde hair stood out among the majority of dark haired workers, and was cut into a cute style that framed his face. "My name is Fuuta, and I'll be your waiter for today. Are you ready to order?"

Tsuna was slightly surprised that this _blonde _waiter had a Japanese name in Italy- but shook off the thought. He mulled the idea of his order over one last time. "Hm.. I guess so," he replied, and closed his menu. "Can I have the seafood linguine, with the oyster sauce on the side?"

Fuuta wrote the order down steadily. "Will that be all?"

Tsuna nodded, and the blonde smiled, taking his menu. "It should be out soon. I'll be back with your water."

"Thanks," the brunette replied, and watched for a second as the blonde walked away- before he was interrupted by his cell vibrating. Narrowing his eyes in annoyance, Tsuna looked down as he slipped his phone out of his pocket, and opened it.

_Are you still sleeping, Dame-Tsuna? Hurry up and call me back._

Tsuna rolled his eyes at Reborn's texts. Secretly, he wondered if he could block Reborn's number- but that would mean when he finally did have to see the lawyer, a whole lot of pain. Who knew what the sadistic man would do if Tsuna actually _gave _him an excuse to punish him.

"Here's your water," Fuuta said, snapping Tsuna out of his thoughts. He put the glass down on a coaster, and smiled with a little bow. "Your food will be out shortly."

Tsuna nodded a little. "Uh, thanks. Before you go, could I ask you a question?"

The blonde paused mid-step, as he was about to leave. "Hm? Oh, sure!"

"Are you from Japan? Your name is Fuuta, so I was wondering," Tsuna said, tilting his head to the side. It wasn't often you saw people with Japanese names working in Italy, after all.

"Oh, that," Fuuta replied. "My mom was Japanese, so she named me Fuuta. I'm just half-Italian," he explained. "I used to live in Japan, but I think I'm predominantly Italian."

"I, uh, see," Tsuna said. That explained it pretty well. "Sorry to bother you."

"It's fine!" The waiter laughed, good-naturedly. "I get those kinds of questions a lot. I'm just glad you weren't someone who asked me if I was Chinese. At least you know the difference."

Tsuna chuckled a little, glad his question wasn't seen as invasive. "Thanks."

"No problem," Fuuta said back, his pleasant demeanor rather calming to the brunette. "If you have any other questions, feel free to ask. I don't offend easily."

Tsuna gave the other a smile, before the blonde walked off to continue to wait on other customers. It was kind of reassuring to see that he wasn't the only Asian around. He wasn't full Japanese and spoke fluent Italian, but it still felt kind of shocking to be in Italy again, where no one bowed to each other or used honorifics when they spoke.

It had only been about ten minutes when Fuuta was back, holding a large plate full of pasta in front of Tsuna. "Here's your seafood linguine," he said, with a bright smile, and placed it in front of the brunette. "It's nice and fresh, so it's sure to be good! Would you like anything else before I go?"

"I'm okay," Tsuna replied. His mouth was watering from the smell drifting toward him from his food. "Thanks."

"No problem. _ Buon appetito!_"

Tsuna picked up his fork and spoon, and twirled together some noodles over his plate, some fish on the side. Blowing on it slightly, he opened his mouth, and immediately closed his eyes in bliss at the delicious taste of pasta entering his mouth. _God, _he thought, _this was a really good choice of restaurants. _As he chewed slowly, savoring his food, Tsuna completely ignored the vibrating coming from his phone, his euphoria shielding him from the irritated calls of Reborn.

Halfway through his meal, Tsuna began to get full, but kept eating until the pasta was three-fourths of the way gone. By then, he was unable to eat any more. He had always been more of a light eater, but he was hungry- and the Opera House didn't have any way he could keep perishable food. Satisfied, he leaned back in his chair, and within minutes Fuuta came back, holding a black check-pad for the meal's payment.

"Was it good?" The blonde asked, his eyes bright as ever.

"Best I've had in a while," Tsuna replied, as he took out his wallet and put down the correct amount of money. He made sure to leave a good tip for Fuuta, for putting up with his questions. Besides, he might as well spend his cash how he liked now, seeing as he would hardly have any left in the future.

"Thank you very much," Fuuta said, taking the pad. "Please come back again!"

"I will," the brunette replied, as he slid out of his seat, straightening up. He smiled at Fuuta, who looked genuinely pleased. "Thank you for your service."

"Any time! Goodbye!"

Tsuna exited the restaurant feeling much better than before- now with a full stomach, and a slight nostalgic feeling of home. He made his way out of the town center. Most of the people from before had cleared out. Tsuna took out his phone and purposefully ignored Reborn's texts, checking the time. It was four-eighteen.

By the time he got back to the Opera House, it would be about four-thirty. It was too late to call anyone or do anything, so Tsuna figured he'd take the day off. If Reborn was with him and heard him saying that- he'd automatically be whacked over the head, but he was doing this on his own. Tsuna could pace himself independently, and get things done.

_Yes, _the brunette reassured himself, with a confident smile, _I'll be fine. I just need a telephone book, and I can find some contractors to call. I'll talk to some officials and get an OK for construction.. I'll be all right._

Tsuna walked at a slow, steady pace, back to the Opera House. Some other people lined the streets, laughing and talking. Though he didn't love Italy, he had to admit, the buildings were beautiful, and the people friendly enough. Some young women looked over at Tsuna and giggled, waving shyly, and other men carefully tipped their hats to him politely when he walked by, in greeting. With each gesture, Tsuna offered back a smile, and they all returned it.

From the Italians knew before, Tsuna would have thought they were all pretty much jerks. In fact, the only Italians Tsuna knew were his irresponsible and distant father, his antisocial and seemingly rude uncles and snobbish aunts, and the ever-so murderous Reborn. So, it was only natural his idea of the people of Milan were not all amazing to begin with.

Tsuna opened up the door to the staircase, having cut across the lawn of the Opera House once he arrived. His honey-brown eyes traveled up towards the second floor, where he noticed the lights in the living quarters were on.

_That's weird.. Did I forget to turn the lights off?_

Tsuna shook off his thoughts, and entered the stairwell. Climbing up, he took out his key in advance. Once he had gone up the tedious amounts of stairs, the brunette unlocked the door and entered, closing it behind him. Looking around, Tsuna confirmed that it was only his light that was on. In relief, he went inside of his room and was about to flick the switch off, when he heard something in the hallway bump.

The brunette's eyes widened, and he quickly turned around.

What was that? Was someone in the Opera House? Though he was a rational adult, Tsuna's heart was racing. That sound was _not _the wind, or a branch hitting the side of the house. It was specifically inside the hall, as if a _body_ or something of the like had dropped down and hit the floor or wall.

_Oh God. _All of the blood rushed out of Tsuna's face, as he tried to steel his courage. Slowly, he turned around, careful to be as silent as possible, and peeked around the corner of the door frame.

There was nothing there. Everything was as normal as it should be.

Carefully, Tsuna tiptoed out of his room, and made his way down the hall. The lounge of the living quarters was the door on the right, where the sound had most likely come from. The hairs on the back of his neck standing up, Tsuna jolted when he heard the distinct sound of humming come from inside the room.

_"Midori tanabiku.. Namimori no.."_

Tsuna blinked, and narrowed his eyes. Okay. A burglar or something was inside the Opera House, that was pretty unnerving, but still acceptable. But they were singing a school anthem? What the hell?

_"D__ai naku, shou naku.. Nami ga ii,"_ the masculine voice continued.

Tsuna peeked his head through the door frame, the opening to the lounge only partly visible through the halfway closed door. The brunette looked around hurriedly before his eyes settled on a figure rummaging through a fridge (so there was a fridge, damn) while swaying their hips in rhythm to their humming. The person turned and Tsuna quickly ducked away, as the person laughed while putting something down on the counter.

"Haha, I guess that Hibari got that stuck in my head!" The voice boomed out. Yes, this person was male, definitely male, Tsuna confirmed to himself. By the person's silhouette, the brunette deduced that this person was over six feet, and would probably squish Tsuna like a bug if they got into a fight.

"Damn," Tsuna mumbled to himself. He may have been skilled in boxing- but skill only took you so far when your opponent was two times your size and muscle mass. That, and the last time he had really fought someone was during a scuffle when Haru nearly got mugged near the convenience store after they worked the late night shift.

_"Take me out to the ball game, take me out with the crowd.." _The man continued, his footsteps sounding off of the wooden floors. _"Buy me some peanuts and crackerjack.. I don't care if I never get back, let me root, root, root for the home team.. If they don't win it's a shame! For it's one, two, three strikes you're out.."_

Tsuna barely had time to register that the person was coming outside. He scrambled to his feet, and in a mere second of Dame-Tsuna resurfacing back from high school, he tripped over his own feet and sent himself skidding face-first into the hard wooden floor, practically splintering his chin.

_"At the old, ball-"_

"Fuck!"

Tsuna's eyes widened once he realized the person had stopped singing, and immediately froze. The footsteps in the lounge stopped, as the door slowly slid open, to reveal someone who was indeed, over six feet, with spiky brown hair, and tanned skin. He wore a nice grape-colored collared shirt with a blazer over it and neat slacks, obviously not the kind of clothes a burglar would wear. His surprised brown eyes were wide as he took in the small brunette who lay on his stomach in pain.

Tsuna's heart leapt into his throat.

"Uh, hi."

* * *

Review if you thought Yamamoto was Hibari.


End file.
